| Subject: Too Down to Get Up - Falling into the Machine |
Author:
Nick V.
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Date Posted: 00:28:30 12/19/03 Fri
Be easy on me guys I'm new around here. Here's a little something I wrote. Let me know what you think - critiques are welcome. We are all looking for understanding here, right?
Too Down to Get up
A man sits alone on the edge of his bed, head in his hands. The sore discomfort in his feet and back, the circles under his eyes, the pounding headache between his ears, and the empty cramps in his belly, seem to mean nothing compared to the toil in heart and the hunger in his soul. Emotions, the feelings of which once longed for; now pleaded to release him of their suffering; praying for numbness. The virtues of fortitude, passion, determination, and pride that once filled his veins have bled out. Leaving behind a man withering, weak, and broken; without a source of life. The senses of happiness, confidence, and accomplishment now replaced with depression, constant fear, and relentless anxiety. The four decrepit walls that surround him can not block out the pressures and pains that are destroying his once simple and straightforward life. His drive for success and independence seemed to have veered him off cliff he’s been rolling down for quite some time. Most accidents occur and devastate in a matter of seconds. Yet this crash continues to damage and destroy. What is this force that keeps telling to stop trying to achieve? Why does life keep dealing this player a bad hand? Life was supposed to be about friendships and bonds, simple beauties and simple pleasures. Now only about following societal rules, making the grade, making the buck, and reaching for power. It seems as if the quest for money and power comes at the price of friends, feelings, and freedom. Not the freedom that America knows and loves, but the freedom of your mind and of your soul. Worse yet, for the man sitting on his bed, he can not even receive his fruitless and empty reward of the American Dream. So now he sits , a bitter failure. Lost his faith, lost his friends, lost his American dream, and worst of all lost his life. A true and valuable life one made of family, of God , of grace, of humility, of content. So here I will sit on my bed abandoned by my past and engorged by my forsaken and abrasive future. I have failed. I failed my goals, I failed my friends, I failed my family, I failed my soul, I failed my God. I have failed. So now what is left of me? Where do I turn? What do I do? I ask God as I sit head in my hands and the edge of my bed in my dingy and dark room wishing life was a two way street and I just had to make a U-turn. There I will stay waking to up to the same nightmare every cold morning. Too broken to fix, Too tired to care, too sad to cry, too down to get up.
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